10-00-11-00:02
by TARDISTraveller
Summary: Just an insight to what the Doctor was thinking when he searched for Gallifrey at the end of Death in Heaven. *Spoilers through Death in Heaven*. Oneshot.


10-00-11-00:02

That's what Missy said. The location of Gallifrey. The Doctor stared at the numbers, triple and quadruple checking their correctness.

It wasn't going to work. It couldn't. Missy was lying. Of course she was. When did she ever tell the truth?

Every reasonable portion of the Doctor's mind was telling him to forget this stupid binary code and go rescue some civilizations. Run far away and never stop. But when it came to Gallifrey, emotions clouded his judgement. Excitement and fear and doubt coursed through him, forcing his hearts to pound twice as fast just to keep enough blood flowing. His eyes were burning from the glow of the screen, but that pain was minuscule next to the wave of nerves he was experiencing.

Finally he pulled the lever closest to him. The journey to Gallifrey had begun. As the groan of the TARDIS wheezed around him, he closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle. "Please. Just this once."

He felt rather than heard the TARDIS land; a ringing in his ears muffled nearly every other sound. His legs somehow carried him to the door before he had consciously told them to. The moment had come.

He placed both of his shaky hands on the two door handles. Clara had Danny. He knew P.E. would figure out the bracelet soon enough. There as nothing for him except his old home. No where left to run. Nothing left to do. He took a deep breath and pulled the doors open.

Darkness. The deep and lovely dark. The Doctor hadn't expected to see Gallifrey. He hadn't had high hopes. But one tiny fragment in the back of his mind had told him it was possible. Possible that Missy would be kind. Possible that Gallifrey could be found. Possible that he wouldn't be alone.

The Doctor had tried to prepare himself for this moment, but none of his practice could've made any difference when the time actually came. He was surprised at how little emotion he felt. His hearts were still racing, but his mind had gone blank. All of those conflicting emotions vanished. The darkness of space consumed them. He turned around calmly and closed the door with the same casualty as when he came back from a coffee run.

Two more steps and he was at the console again. He tilted his head down and glared at the screen, still glowing with the empty lie that he had allowed himself to believe. Something in him snapped. Whether it was the realization that Gallifrey was still missing, the fact that he had followed another one of the Master's plots, or even that P.E. had taken his Clara; he couldn't tell.

The emptiness inside him filled with only one emotion: rage. Pure, unadulterated anger that brought out the Oncoming Storm within him. His breath came through flared nostrils and his hearts beat with the fury of over 2,000 years of unappreciated goodness. Never thanked. Never rewarded. Never anything but lost and lonely.

His fist met the console with a force he didn't know he possessed. Sparks flew around him, but he didn't even care. The Timelords. His people. He wasn't going to see them anytime soon. Again his fist made contact with the metal. More unnoticed sparks. The TARDIS was trying her best to stop her thief from doing any more damage, but his mind was far gone. His fist hit the console once more.

The two suns that would cast an orange glow across the entire sky. The streets where he had learned how to run. His family. All of the people he left behind.

His mind was flooded with every memory he had of his beautiful home planet. He had let his guard down. He had allowed himself an ounce of hope. He had trusted Missy more than he should have. And now he had to pay the price.

His hand hit the console again. Clara. She was gone, too. It wasn't official yet, but why would she need her old, grumpy Timelord when she had Danny? No. It was over. He was going to be alone again very soon.

Anger finally subsiding into sadness, his face dropped down into his sleeve. He had to look okay when he met with Clara. He couldn't seem upset. She was always too worried about him. He had to let her think he was alright. She had to go live the life he never could.

Taking deep breaths, he worked his hardest not to let any tears fall. Crying wasn't going to bring him to Gallifrey. He would just have to keep looking. Keep traveling. On his own. Maybe it was better that way. He couldn't lose anyone if he didn't have anyone to lose.

Weak and weary from his sudden outburst, he slowly stood to his full height. His eyes scanned the console, which he vowed to himself and the TARDIS that he would fix as soon as he could. Suddenly his hand began throbbing. The adrenaline that had kept the pain at bay was fading and now a dull ache ran through his entire right arm. Luckily for him he hadn't broken his hand. He didn't want to have to put off his meeting with Clara for too long. It was time for things to end. It was time to say goodbye.

Also luckily for him, the TARDIS didn't hold a grudge. She knew her poor Gallifreyan had only hit her because he was in a lot of pain. She instantly opened a hatch under the console that held a small medical bag, something the Doctor lacked most of the time, ironically. He bandaged up his hand and climbed the stairs to his favorite chair, which stood next to his favorite bookshelf. Silently he pulled down an old leather-bound volume and read the cover. Robin Hood. He let a slight chuckle escape him, feeling a pang in his chest as he thought of saying goodbye to Clara. He had to make it special. She meant so much to him, he couldn't just say 'Have a nice life' and leave. Maybe a hug? He sighed just thinking about it. What was it with people and the hugging? Gritting his teeth, he set the book back on the shelf and descended the stairs once more. It was time to stop running away from his fears. Picking up the phone, another shot rang through his hearts. This may be the last time he calls her. Her phone rings twice before she picks up. "Hello?"

Hearing her voice only makes it more difficult. "Do you want to meet up for lunch?"

The Doctor could hear Clara's smile through the speaker. "You? At lunch? Like, a normal, human, fish n' chips lunch?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"I just can't imagine you at a café, that's all."

The Doctor gazed around the TARDIS, struggling not to roll his eyes. "Pick a place; I'll track your phone down. Deal?"

"Deal. But no saving the world, alright? I'm coming from work and I barely have energy to stand right now."

"No saving the world. I promise."

"What's wrong?"

The Doctor wished he were a more honest man. Wished he didn't have secrets. But that just wouldn't be him. His secrets protect him. "Nothing's wrong, Clara. Can't we just have a nice meal together? We did just stop two of my greatest enemies the other day."

The Doctor sighed. He was talking too fast. She was probably seeing right through him. "Alright. I'll see you in a few minutes. Don't do anything stupid before you get here; I'm already looking forward to this."

"Right, boss. I'll come right away."

"Bye."

The Doctor let his grip on the phone loosen slightly. Softly he whispered, "Goodbye," and set the phone back in it's holder. That was it. The last phone call he would ever have with his impossible girl. Pressing a few buttons on the console as he sauntered around the empty space, he couldn't help lamenting over the loss he was about to face. Soon, almost too soon, the TARDIS was landing and the noise of the street drones faintly in the background. The Doctor stood up, threw the bandage off his hand, revealing already healed skin underneath, and straightened his jacket. In one swift movement, he glided to the door, pulled it open, and stepped outside, turning instantaneously into an actor on this large stage we call Earth.


End file.
